At one point Ãcariya Mun spent some time living in
Chiang Dao Cave – not the long cave in the middle of
the mountain that has become popular with tourists,
but one higher up the mountain. This cave was home
to a great nãga
who had kept guard over it for a very long time.
Apparently this nãga was rather conceited and had a tendency to be overly
critical of monks. During his stay in the cave,
Acariya Mun became the object of this nãga’s constant criticism. It found fault with nearly
everything he did. It appeared incapable of
accepting Ãcariya Mun’s thoughts of loving kindness,
probably as a consequence of its long-standing
enmity toward monks.

At night when Ãcariya Mun wore his sandals to do
walking meditation, the nãga complained about the sound of his footsteps: “What
kind of a monk are you, stomping around like an
unbridled race horse? The sound of your sandals
striking the earth shakes the whole mountain. Did
you ever think you might be annoying somebody with
all that noise?”

It raised these complaints despite Ãcariya Mun’s
composed manner of pacing softly back and forth.
Hearing the criticisms, he took care to walk even
more softly than before; but still, the nãga wasn’t satisfied: “What kind of a monk are you,
walking meditation like somebody sneaking around
hunting birds?” Occasionally, Ãcariya Mun’s foot
would stumble on a stone in the meditation path,
causing a slight thumping sound which elicited
another reproach: “What kind of a monk are you,
bucking up and down your meditation path like a
chorus dancer?”

There were times when Ãcariya Mun leveled out the
surface of his meditation path to facilitate smooth,
easy walking. As he moved stones around and put them
neatly into place, the nãga complained: “What kind of a monk are you, always
moving things around – you’re never satisfied. Don’t
you realize that all your fussing about gives others
a splitting headache?”

Ãcariya Mun had to exercise special care with
whatever he did at that cave. Even then, this
opinionated nãga would find an excuse to criticize him. Should his
body move slightly while he slept at night, he could
sense psychically upon awakening that the nãga had been criticizing him for tossing, turning,
wheezing, snoring, and so on. Focusing his attention
on this angry, hypercritical nãga,
Ãcariya Mun always found its head sticking out,
peering at him intently, as though it never took its
eyes off him. Vicious looking and mean-spirited, it
refused to accept any merit dedicated to it and was
determined to indulge in feelings of anger that
burned like a fire inside its heart. Seeing that it
compounded its evil kamma all the time, Ãcariya Mun felt truly sorry for the
nãga.
But as long as it showed no interest in reasonable
discourse, it was impossible for him to help in any
way. All it could think about was fault-finding.

On one occasion, Ãcariya Mun explained the general
principles underlying a monk’s life, specifically
mentioning his own purpose and intentions:

“My purpose for being here is not to cause trouble
to somebody else, but rather to work as best I can
for my own benefit and the benefit of others. So you
should not entertain ignoble thoughts, thinking that
I’m here to cause you harm or discomfort. I am here
consciously trying to do good so that I can share
the merit of my actions with all living beings
without exception. That includes you as well, so you
needn’t be upset thinking that I’ve come just to
annoy you.

“Physical activity is a normal feature of people’s
everyday life. Comings and goings are part of living
in this world – only the dead cease to move about.
Although as a monk I am always self-composed, I’m
not a corpse in repose: I have to inhale and exhale,
and the force of my breathing varies from one
posture to another. My breathing continues to
function while I sleep, as does my whole body; so,
naturally, there will be some sounds emitted. The
same is true when I awaken and begin
walking-meditation, or perform chores. There is some
sound, but always within the bounds of moderation.
When have you ever seen a monk standing frozen stiff
like a corpse, never moving a muscle? Human beings
don’t behave like that.

“I try hard to walk as carefully and softly as
possible, but still you complain that I walk like a
race horse. In truth, an animal like a race horse
and a virtuous monk mindfully walking meditation
could not be more different, one from the other. You
should avoid making such comparisons. Otherwise, you
become a wretched individual aiming for a berth in
hell. It’s impossible for me to satisfy all your
unreasonable whims. If, like everyone else, you
expect to find happiness and prosperity, then
consider your own faults for awhile and stop lugging
the fires of hell around in your heart all the time.
Only then will you find a way out.

“Criticizing other people’s faults, even when they
really are wrong, merely serves to increase your own
irritation and put you in a bad mood. My behavior
here is in no way improper for a monk, yet you keep
carping about it constantly. If you were a human
being, you’d probably be incapable of living in
normal society – you’d see the world as one big
garbage dump and yourself as pure solid gold. Such
feelings of alienation are due to emotional turmoil
caused by your hypercritical attitude – which gives
you no peace. The wise have always condemned
unjustified criticism of others, saying it brings
terrible moral consequences. So why do you enjoy
doing it with such a vengeance – and such
indifference to the painful consequences? I’m not
the one who suffers from your criticism – it is your
own emotional health that’s adversely affected. Such
ill effects are quite obvious, so how can you be
unaware that your whole attitude is wrong? I’m fully
cognizant of everything you are thinking, and at the
same time, I have always forgiven you. You
concentrate on doing terrible things that consume
your mind and ravage your heart as though you can’t
get enough of doing evil. Were your condition a
disease, it would be an untreatable one.

“I have been trying to change your mental attitude,
just as I’ve long been trying to help many other
living beings. Human beings, ghosts, devas,
brahmas,
yakkhas,
and even great nãgas far more powerful than yourself, have all accepted
the truth of the Lord Buddha’s teaching on kamma.
None, except you, have angrily criticized the value
of Dhamma, which is revered throughout the world
systems. And you’re so peculiar that you won’t
accept the truth of anything at all. The only
pleasure you take is in making derogatory remarks
and angrily censuring people who have done nothing
wrong. You devote yourself to these as though they
were propitious actions. But the wise have never
thought that such actions foster peace and security.
When you finally slough off the skin of this
ill-fated existence, you won’t encounter a pleasant,
pain-free existence, unaffected by the evil
consequences of your actions.

“I apologize for speaking so candidly about the
principles of Dhamma, but my intentions are good.
Nothing malicious is intended in my remarks,
regardless of what misconceptions you may have.
Since the very beginning of my stay here, I have
tried to do everything in a careful, restrained
manner, for I know that this is your home and I’m
concerned that my presence here may inconvenience
you. Although I am well aware that you’re an
individual who delights in looking for things to
criticize, I still can’t seem to avoid being seen in
a disparaging light. I myself experience genuine
contentment, unaffected even by constant criticism.
But, I worry that the repercussions of your dogged
pursuit of evil will be extremely unpleasant for
you. I did not come here in search of wickedness or
evil. Being quite sure that everything I do and say
emanates from a pure heart, I have no fear that my
actions will incur any unpleasant moral
consequences.

“As soon as intelligent people begin to understand
the difference between secular matters and spiritual
ones, they tend to appreciate virtuous conduct,
admiring all wholesome, meritorious actions
performed for the sake of peace and happiness. From
ages past, the wise have always taught living beings
to feel good about being virtuous. So why do you
adhere to the maverick notion that it’s all right to
strip yourself of virtue and wallow in evil? You
seem to detest virtue so dreadfully much that you
can’t be bothered to reflect on your own vices.
Although I won’t be experiencing the dire
consequences that await you, still I fear for you in
that miserable state. You must stop thinking in ways
that are harmful, for the mean intent behind your
actions has the power to deprive you of all moral
value. Such undesirable consequences, bringing
unimaginable torment, are what I fear more than
anything else in the world. The whole world dreads
old age, sickness, and death, but I don’t fear them
nearly so much as I fear evil and its attendant
consequences.

“People with kilesas tend to eschew spiritual principles, preferring
instead the things that religious tenets proscribe.
So ordaining as a Buddhist monk to practice the
Teaching and the Discipline requires us to undergo
an agonizing character transformation. Even though I
knew how difficult it would be to oppose the kilesas,
I nonetheless felt compelled to join the monkhood
and endure the severe hardship. The extreme
discomfort caused by constantly opposing the kilesas – that’s what makes the practice so difficult. But
if we desire to transcend kamma and the defiling kilesas that create it, we must endure such torment – for
kilesas always steadfastly resist the teachings of the Lord
Buddha.

“I’ve come here to practice, living in this cave
like a worthless social outcast, solely because I
fear evil and its consequences. I did not come here
to harm or trouble anyone. Nor do I feel contempt
for any living being. I respect them all as friends
whose lives are also subject to the law of kamma,
and who are thus all of equal intrinsic value. I
dedicate the merit of my actions equally to all
beings with the hope that they may live in
contentment wherever they may be. I have never taken
the arrogant attitude that I’m a human being
ordained as a Buddhist monk and therefore superior
to my companions in birth, ageing, sickness, and
death.

“You too exist within the sphere of
kamma,
so you ought to humbly reflect on how your own
faults affect you. Criticizing others without proper
consideration will never bring you good results – it
merely piles up the ill effects of bad kamma,
which then linger on indefinitely. You should feel
dismayed by your errant behavior and drop this
dangerous practice. Only then can you hope to become
a good individual with a chance for a better,
happier birth in the future. Then your mean, angry
heart will soften, and you can avoid being engulfed
in misery forever.

“All living beings in the universe – from humans and
animals to devas,
brahmas,
and yakkhas – cherish happiness and loathe suffering. They do
not have an aversion for Dhamma simply because they
can’t yet put it into practice. Dhamma has always
been the quintessential nature of the universe.
Those beings who are in a position to practice
Dhamma find great satisfaction in it – for instance,
human beings. Their state of birth makes them well
suited to the practice of Dhamma.

“You yourself are a living being who’s fully capable
of distinguishing between good and bad, and thus
choosing what’s most beneficial for you. So why do
you do just the opposite? I’m puzzled that you seem
content to revel in those things which the wise
abhor while scorning those which the wise applaud.
You know about dukkha and you hate it, yet you strive to produce the very
causes that bring you great unhappiness and
discomfort. The wise tell us that our efforts to
find fault with others produce consequences that
cause greater and greater unhappiness – exactly what
you shamelessly do all the time. You may not be
interested, but although I’m fully aware of your
despicable thoughts, I’ve always forgiven you. I’m
not angry or offended, but I do feel sorry for you.
Thus, I have decided to tell you the plain truth.
Should it prove useful to you, I shall be pleased
for your sake. I receive no unpleasant consequences
from your thoughts for I’m not the one who engages
in them. All I experience are peace, serenity, and
loving compassion that have long been my heart’s
abode.”

The nãga didn’t make any comment as Ãcariya Mun explained
these various aspects of Dhamma, but it did
experience the rise of some salutary thoughts while
listening: This monk talks a lot of sense. But right now I’m
unable to do as he says, being still too content
with my old ways. Perhaps I’ll have more interest in
my next existence. This monk has many awesome
qualities – he even perceives things that should be
unknowable. How can he know my private thoughts? I
live in a hidden world, yet somehow he sees me. Over
the years, many monks have come to stay in this
cave, but none have known about my existence, much
less my thoughts. I’ve even forced some of them to
flee because I couldn’t stand having them around.
But this monk knows everything, including my
thoughts. Even while sleeping he remains aware.
Later, he can tell me exactly what I was thinking,
as if he hadn’t been asleep at all. Why am I so
opinionated that I can’t take what he teaches to
heart and put it into practice? Like he said: I must
surely have some very grave kamma. Despite knowing
the despicable nature of my mind, he still makes an
effort to explain how his daily activities are not intended to bother me. My present state of
existence is certainly unfortunate. He’s right when
he says that I’m quite capable of distinguishing
between good and bad. Yet I’m hampered by my
wretched conceit, meaning that my next life will
probably be just as unfortunate as this one – and so
on indefinitely.

After a short pause Ãcariya Mun asked the
nãga if it had managed to understand any of his
explanations on Dhamma.

The nãga replied: “I understand everything you so kindly
explained to me. But unfortunately, I’m burdened by
some very grave kamma and I’ve yet to grow weary of my wretched condition.
I’m still debating this matter with myself and I
haven’t come to any definite conclusions. My heart
tends to gravitate toward a state of degradation, as
it always has, so it balks at listening to the
Dhamma you are teaching.”

Ãcariya Mun asked the nãga what it meant by saying that its heart liked to
gravitate toward a state of degradation.

The nãga answered: “My heart enjoys finding fault with you
all the time, even though you’ve done nothing wrong
– that’s just the way my heart is. I don’t know how
to convince myself of the harmful effects of this
tendency so that I can correct it and practice the
way of virtue from now on.”

Ãcariya Mun offered some encouragement:

“Careful consideration will convince you that such
bad tendencies are truly harmful. Once you are
persuaded, then evil will naturally begin to fade
from your heart, ceasing to be so conspicuous in the
future. But by assuming that these tendencies are
beneficial and then encouraging them, you will
naturally tend to think in an endless variety of
ways that are detrimental to you. Unless you hurry
to improve things now, you’ll keep on doing evil
until you are completely beyond help. I cannot do
this job for you. I can give some guidance, but it’s
up to you to make the necessary adjustments in your
character. The onus is on you to press ahead, trying
to accomplish this as best you can. Once you do, you
will see the dangerous aspects of your character
gradually diminish as beneficial qualities develop,
displacing them until all that’s left is pure,
simple virtue, untainted by any form of evil. By
placing your faith in the Dhamma of the Lord Buddha,
which has always helped living beings to transcend
dukkha,
you will always be contented living under its
protective influence. Never feeling distraught,
never disturbed, you will remain even-tempered in
every situation. You won’t be moved to praise one
thing as good or criticize another as bad, and so
suffer the resulting consequences – conduct that’s
contrary to the way of the wise.”

At the conclusion of these remarks, the
nãga promised to make an effort to follow Ãcariya Mun’s
advice. In the days that followed, Ãcariya Mun kept
an eye on it as he continued with his own practice.
He noticed some improvement, as the nãga was able to restrict its hypercritical tendencies by
exercising some measure of control over them. But he
also noticed that this effort caused the nãga much consternation. So finding some excuse to leave
the cave, he moved on – which pleased the nãga.
His association with it ended there.

From that time on, Ãcariya Mun alluded to the story
of this nãga as a means of elaborating on various aspects of
human nature, for the personal benefit of those
listening. The gist of what he said is worth
repeating here, hopefully so that the reader can
learn some valuable lessons from his teaching.

Ãcariya Mun explained that good and evil do not
arise on their own but are dependent on habitual
ways of behaving that gradually become part of one’s
character. If our tendency is to do evil, it is very
difficult to remedy because everything we do tends
to flow in that direction. If it is our tendency to
do good, we become more and more skillful and
assertive as we progress in that direction. For this
reason, clever parents will try to train their
children in the way of goodness from a very early
age – before it becomes too late. When necessary
they will entrust them to the care of someone who is
suitably supportive so that their children’s
upbringing is not simply left to chance.

Children begin to learn about basic common
principles from a very tender age. But unlike
learning in the classroom, this learning process is
not interrupted by time or season. Such basic common
principles are more firmly implanted in children’s
characters than any of their school subjects, for
these things exist all around them – at home, in
school, and everywhere else. Children are constantly
taking lessons from what they see, hear, taste,
smell, and touch in the world, remembering well what
they have learned. A child’s senses are its natural
blackboard. The impressions imprinted there are
pregnant with moral significance; that is, matters
of good and evil. They constantly pick up
impressions from their playmates and the adults in
their lives, as well as from movies and other
entertainment that is normally available to them.
Such everyday impressions are a child’s true
teachers; and children are all too willing to learn
new ideas that are constantly conveyed to them.
Contact with evil affairs can definitely induce a
child to follow evil ways, while good influences can
definitely induce a child to go the way of virtue.
Children naturally take the things they see and hear
as examples to emulate; and, over time, this
establishes a pattern of behavior that defines a
child’s character. Once these patterns have become
ingrained, the children will speak and act according
to the good or evil orientation thus established.

The fact that some people readily take satisfaction
in doing evil and are unwilling to change, while
others just as readily take satisfaction in doing
good and cherish moral virtue all their lives,
indicates the fundamental importance of character
development. Those left to their own devices easily
abandon the effort to resist their bad tendencies –
even before they have seen enough satisfactory
results to encourage perseverance. Consequently,
basic character development is absolutely essential
for all people. This means that nothing should be
done carelessly or thoughtlessly, for once such
tendencies become habitual they are difficult to
correct. The importance of this principle becomes
apparent as we strive to develop positive character
traits until they become part of our very nature;
for instance: being reasonable about how and where
we travel; being reasonable about how we spend our
money so that everyone in the family benefits; and
being reasonable in our eating and sleeping habits
so that we do not overindulge in them. All such
exemplary behavior patterns should be
enthusiastically developed until they become
instinctive. The inner resistance we meet in the
early stages of training will naturally give way to
a smooth, easy character transformation. This
transformation itself is sufficient proof that
character training is well within our capabilities.
But we must be willing to persevere in the
beginning.

Training is required to make any kind of work
successful. Just as we must undergo training in
order to succeed in our professions, so the heart
and mind must be trained in order to obtain optimum
results. Only after death are we beyond the need for
training. Wishing to gain proficiency in something,
we must work at it, practicing until we are
well-skilled in it. Character training develops a
skill which is synonymous with virtue. Take this
message to heart, consider it well, and put it into
practice – your efforts will surely be rewarded with
a wealth of personal virtue. Such was the gist of
Ãcariya Mun’s teaching on character training. I have
included it here to help those who are developing
Dhamma in this way.